


Cornelia Street

by Far_Beyond_The_Universe



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Fluff, Light Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-14 03:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21008876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Far_Beyond_The_Universe/pseuds/Far_Beyond_The_Universe
Summary: Lance and Keith meet in the back of an Uber.Just a little drabble, originally posted on my Instagram.





	1. 1

It’s one of those Uber’s where you end up riding with strangers. Keith hated them, but he was also a poor just-graduated twenty-something with no car, so his options were limited.

And, somehow, he got the worst possible seat in the car—in the way back of the van, in the middle of two other people. Squished tightly. He was sitting forward in his seat so as to make as much room as he could for himself, but even then, he was feeling a tad claustrophobic.

He was so angry at his predicament that he wouldn’t even really look at his seat partners. The car was loud, the radio blaring plus the group in the seats in front of him were well on their way to being drunk.

“Excuse me,” the guy on his right tapped him on the shoulder.

Keith jerked a bit and turned to give his seat partner a glare… until he realized that maybe he didn’t have the worst seat in the car if he was sitting tightly against such an attractive guy.

Brown hair, blue eyes, a tattoo peeking out of his collar.

“Sorry, but, you’re sitting on my phone,” the stranger said. 

“What?”

“My phone.” The guy looked sheepish.

Keith wiggled in his seat and dislodged it. He handed it to the guy, but not before sneaking a peek at his lock screen. A picture of a dog, not a significant other.

“I’m Lance,” the stranger said.

“Keith.”

The uber stopped and the guy on his left pushed his way out. Keith was able to move to a more comfortable position, though he didn’t take as full opportunity as he could have, wanting to be close to this Lance.

“Live around here? I’m just visiting the city for a few weeks,” Lance said.

Keith told about having grown up in the city, about his favorite haunts. About how he just got back from university on the West Coast.

Lance is from Cuba but he’s visited California a couple times and Portland once, so they chat about landmarks.

They flirt, too. 

The drunk party get out of the car and Lance closes some of the distance between them.

“I’m renting a place, if you want to come over?”

Keith nods. He definitely wants to come over.

The uber driver drops them off at Lance’s little loft. An Airbnb, Lance says. He’s an installation artist, doing work downtown.

Once they’re in the apartment they don’t spend much time chatting, though. Keith’s got his clothes on the floor and Lance’s are soon to follow.


	2. 2

It’s supposed to be a one-night thing. Two strangers have a really great, really passionate night together between the sheets and when they wake up they say a little bit of a sheepish goodbye and never see one another again.

Or, better yet, Keith sneaks out before Lance wakes up. 

Except, when he does wake up the sun seems to have been up for some time and Lance is still curled tightly around him making Keith a very comfortable little spoon. He doesn’t even think about leaving once he feels the steady beat of Lance’s heart.

Maybe once they’re both up… 

But even then, Keith stays. Lance makes breakfast and it’s pretty good.

There’s a big difference between Lance and the guys Keith normally sleeps with—Lance is passionate. Not just in sex, but in everything he does.

He ends up taking Keith to the building where he’s putting in an installation. They’re these huge square lights that change color when you touch them, but they can also bounce around and touch each other, showing how everyone is interconnected and how that interconnectedness still leads to unique interactions. 

It’s only halfway done and it’s so beautiful.

“I can’t wait to see the finished project,” Keith says. And then he realizes it sounds like he’s promising to stick around. He never does that. 

But he would for Lance.

“I can’t wait to show you,” Lance promises right back.

They spend the whole day together. It’s a Saturday, so neither of them had work or obligations that they needed to beg off. Instead, it’s bliss. It’s a perfect day. They get lunch at a favorite restaurant of Keith’s. Lance treats him to dinner at a nicer place. In between they giggle and ride buses around to see interesting pockets of the city that Lance hadn’t had the chance to go to yet. 

It feels like they’re having a month worth of dates in one day.

At night Keith isn’t sure if he should stay. Would it be imposing?

But Lance welcomes him back into his bed with a warm smile and another promise. 

But the next day is Sunday. Keith can’t avoid seeing his brother, nor does he want to. Should he invite Lance? It turns out Lance has an interview over the phone for another installation opportunity.

“Wait.” Lance stops him before he can leave. “Let me give you my number.”

Keith is all smiles all day. He and Lance have been texting back and forth nonstop. He doesn’t care that they didn’t define their relationship, that they haven’t talked about the fact that Lance doesn’t live here permanently. He’s here for another month, and that’s enough for Keith, for now.


	3. 3

It’s not enough for Keith in the end. He knows Lance has to leave for some time, but they both avoid the topic until they can’t any longer and Lance starts packing. Keith is at his place, considering pulling out the clothes that have just been neatly folded into a suitcase.

“I’ll call every day,” Lance says.

But Keith shakes his head. He’s not good at long-distance anything. All his friends he made in college he’s let fall through the cracks in his life.

“I’ll miss you every day,” Lance says.

Keith is choked up. He wants to hold Lance close. He wants to go with him, follow him around the world. But he can’t do that either.

“This has been my favorite month,” Keith says. And then he leaves the little loft on Cornelia street because staying hurts his heart.

It’s another month later and Keith still hurts. Lance has texted him a few times and Keith has often stayed up late trying to convince himself it’s okay to call. But these are thin threads and every day apart frays them further.

_I’ll be back in New York again at some point. There are always jobs there. _Lance texts.

_Don’t let me limit you. _Keith writes. But he erases it before he sends it. _Don’t worry about me._

_It’s just a break, Keith. _Lance texts.

Yes, it’s a break. A break up.

Keith doesn’t respond.


	4. 4

It’s another month and Keith stopped responding to Lance because he couldn’t take it anymore. He missed him so much it hurt, but it hurt more to stay in contact and never to see each other.

When he wasn’t working—which was often—Keith wandered the city. Lance had liked to do that, playing games where he would only cross a street if the light was green when he got there, so that his wanderings felt natural and organic. So he could stumble on something new.

And the whole city had been new to him. Keith had loved to watch him discover the little things, like graffiti birds scrawled under a window, or an old lamp that should have been taken down with the others on the street, but had somehow lasted.

So Keith wandered, hoping to find something that sparked joy for him the way it had with Lance.

And then he wandered into a familiar area. He hadn’t even realized where he’d gone. But he was across from the building where Lance’s installation was.

It was open to the public so he went in. He’d seen it finished with Lance, but he’d spent more time looking at the other boy than he had the art. Now, surrounded by these bouncing cubes of changing light Keith felt like breaking down on the spot. Everything about it just shouted Lance’s name; it was a signature and a middle finger and a self-portrait.

At home that night—because even though Keith couldn’t stand to be there he couldn’t tear himself away from the exhibit—Keith googles Lance. He has to find him. He can’t just call or text, it’s not enough.

Being in a room full of something Lance created wasn’t enough.

Maybe being in a room with Lance would be.

Apparently, Lance is in Philadelphia. A new installation is being unveiled in a week. It’s a small piece, something Lance is collaborating on.

Keith needs to be there.


	5. 5

Every morning Lance wakes up and thinks about calling Keith. Sometimes he caves and sends a text. But Keith had made it clear: long-distance didn’t work for him, and as much as Lance might miss him, after barely a month of knowing him, a month of loving him, that wouldn’t change.

This exhibit had been small, and it had been in cooperation with some local artists. They had basically teamed up to create 3D graffiti, with Lance taking care of the 3D element.

And now it was on display in a neighborhood park, ready to be opened up except for the red tape around it. He was supposed to do the whole ceremonial scissors thing in a few minutes.

A crowd had built up. Strangers. He seemed to always be surrounded by strangers, especially as his star grew brighter with every installation.

Lance straightened his jacket sleeves and let his eyes scan about the crowd, maybe get a glimpse at a couple of the faces.

Wait, was someone pushing through?

Someone with dark hair and violet eyes. 

Lance stepped forward, mouth open to call his name but not able to vocalize.

And then Keith was there, flying past the crowd and a member of security and into Lance’s arms.

Lance held him tightly. He wasn’t letting go this time.

A member of security started to approach but Lance shook his head.

“You came here,” he whispered into Keith’s hair.

“I needed you,” Keith says, and then he kisses Lance. Hard and passionate. Lance kisses back, saying everything he could in that kiss. Saying that he loved Keith in that kiss.

There were some flashes around them; the reporters must be eating this up.

When Keith pulls away he says, “I love you. I need you. We’ll make something work.”

“I’ll move to New York. I’ll stay local. I’ll—”

“Stop,” Keith says. “No. I mean, we’ll work something out, but I’m not going to hold you back like that.”

“We’ll work something out.” It’s a promise Lance can keep.


End file.
